Beyond Reckoning
by Night Strider
Summary: Ikegami sends Mitsui a gift who gives a letter to Koshino. Sendoh receives Mitsui's letter and brings hell to him. All on a Valentine's Day. CONCLUDED
1. Default Chapter

Chapter I: Lonely Heart's Day

Disclaimer: I don't own SD boys, Inoue does. The events that follow are not included in the original plot but enjoy anyway.

Ryonan High: Ryoji Ikegami. 8:30 in the morning. Valentine's Day.

I'm panting. My sweat drips like toxic fire works on a Chinese New Year, evaporating before colliding with the wooden molecules of the stadium's glittering floor. 30 minutes have passed and we're still down by 4. Unnecessary turnovers ruin our possession as Ryonan Team A scores points off every offensive violation we commit. A bad day for me.

I've got 18 points, 8 boards, 4 assists, 4 blocks, and 5 steals. Not bad except for a couple of charging fouls.

Another steal. Gotcha, Uekusa. You should know better than to break through my impeccable D. Tightest defender in the L, ain't I?

The familiar horn sounds, game ends, and we're trailed by 6. Shit. Taoka delivers his run-of-the-mill ceremony and eventually hits the roof which sends Uozomi's water bottle soaring to the air and, poof. Somebody mop the floor for crying out loud. He cusses Team B's (my team) lousy performance as if nobody stuck it out. Well, that's how it goes; a set of triple doubles doesn't make anyone a good athlete unless he wins the game. Crazy.

Ryonan Team squeezes in to the shower room like a phalanx retreating from an open battle to a fox hole; all because Mr. Underworld summons his serpentine allies to annihilate the army in a single blow. Yeah, Taoka's fits invariably conjure that sort of panic.

Ryoji!' He shouts before I disappear behind the locker room's door. Uh oh.

'Coach?' I ask innocently.

'Your team (team B) will have 50 laps before dismissal. Next time you lose, I'll double the quantity. Clear?' He glares venomously at me like a Boa constrictor about to devour its herbivorous prey. Life's never fair.

'Sounds great,' I mutter beyond his earshot.

I call forth every member of the losing team including Koshino and Fukuda.

'50 laps, boys. His majesty needs amusement,' I tell them. Nobody complains, number one rule, remember?

I ask Hikoichi to deliver a package to Shohoku High.

'Give this to Mitsui and handle with care, kid. And don't tell anyone who's it from. Got it?' I tell him.

'Hai, Ikegami-san,' he frowns slightly. The glint in his eyes reveals a deadly curiosity. That's the nosy git for you.

Shohoku High: Mitsui Hisashi. Same time.

23 points, 4 rebounds, 8 assists, 2 steals, and 1 block. I'm 5/7 from the 3 point line, 2/3 from the 12 footer, and 2/2 from the foul line. An almost perfect accuracy; my hoops barely shake the net as the score sheet continuously loses stock of integers. This is a sure win over Black team, but damn those 3 misses.

Whistle blows. My team wins. No surprises there. Rukawa starts to scowl like a senile goat. Mmmph. That's what he gets for fueling a scoring machine. So who's the man now, the MVP shooter or the Rookie superstar? I ain't betting a dime on that one.

I hit the showers and turn on the heater. My body's still on fire after 35 minutes of dragging my feet to both ends of the court. Maybe because it's Valentine's Day and Cupid's arrow got me all pumped up; didn't know the God of Love has this grace to fill up one's stamina bar, huh?

I go to my locker, fit into my school uniform, and remove a letter from my pocket.

I got it all planned before January ended; I ask Hotta to slip the letter inside Ryonan's Koshino's bag after they leave school on February 14. Easy. I'll come out clean before somebody makes me a laughing stock of Kanagawa.

I leave the stadium to meet Hotta at the gates. Few vehicles are out in the streets today. Hotta's motor bike's nowhere to be seen

He's not there. Darn, where is he?

Somebody moves to my direction. Oh, it's Ryonan's research boy carrying a ludicrous looking parcel. Probably a present for his girlfriend or boyfriend. Valentines is in the air.

'Mitsui-san!' he calls out to me.

I walk to meet him, clutching the letter inside my pants' pocket.

'Mitsui-san, Ike-I mean, this is for you,' he hands me the cheesy package.

'Who gave this?' I ask suspiciously.

'Can't tell. private business.' he answers succinctly.

This guy's from Ryonan too. Why don't I ask him to deliver the letter to Koshino? Not a good idea but better sent than delayed.

'Hey, kid. Can you send this to...,' I pause. He studies my expression. I have to give out all courage so I continue, 'give this to your team mate Koshino. Don't tell anyone who's it from. Got it?' Sigh. A mass of heavy clouds is leased from my chest.

'Sure thing.' he answers as he leaves Shohoku's entrance.

Ryonan High: Akira Sendoh. One hour later, at the school canteen.

Kuso. Why's nobody answering to me? I've given out 5 letters even before February graced my calendar and nobody has yet agreed to date me on Valentine's day.

Boy and girl are sitting on one stool. How sweet. One cube of sugar and they'd be diagnosed with diabetes. This is gonna be a lonely day for Ryonan's hottest guy.

I decide to go home and there wait for a call. I need someone to go out with tonight.

I switch on my room's light and lay on the bed waiting for someone to give me a ring.

Still no sound from the receiver. Minute particles hover above my face assuming a multitude of indistinctive patterns and forms. None of them seems to blend with the supposed atmosphere of today's special holiday. Sigh. I'll just do the home-works, I guess.

I zip my bag open as a voluminous roll of paper sticks out of it. I open the note and a bunch of neatly written paragraphs flash on the smooth layer of the paper. A romantic fragrance flows from each stroke of ink that transforms each alphabet into a collection of poetic and love seeking words of bold confessions.

I read it slowly, absorbing the sine qua non of the author's sentiments and emotions. No line is rendered with hesitation or clandestine; Each is an authentic outpouring of a heart long hindered by shame and guilt. What kind of idiot would dare speak his/her mind in a letter? What if someone gets wind of it and puts in the school paper?

I think, seeming lost in the darkest abyss of the verge of the world. Many faces loomed before mine, translucent as the ozone layer but tangible as a solid rock on the ocean's floor. Who could've given me that letter? Koshino? Ikegami? Fukuda? Aida? Isn't there a signature somewhere?

I rummage every millimeter of the paper and come upon a PS note at the last page: 'I'll be waiting at Don Rafael's coffee. Don't come if your health fails you but understand that your presence would mean the world to me. 1-4-3. H.M.'

That's what it says. The cliché of the millennium; that 'you mean the world to me' line. Sigh. But who's H.M.? There's no guy in our team whose initials start with H & M.

TBC 


	2. Chapter II

Chapter II: At First Sight

Disclaimer: I don't own SD boys, Inoue does. The events that follow are not included in the original plot but enjoy anyway.

Koshino Residence: Hiroaki Koshino. 10 in the morning.

Darn. Why's nobody asking me out on a date?

I turn on my PC to see what's new in the chat-room. I wonder, is there anyone out there more hopeless than I am? I decide to check my email account just in case somebody remembers. It's been ages since I opened it.

'You have 1 unread message(s)'. the screen says. A message from spiky007 dated 2 weeks ago. Hmmm. So who could that be? James Fucking Bond?

'Meet me at Don Rafael's coffee at 6:30 in the afternoon on Feb. 14. I'm hoping so much to see you.' That's the message. Weird. No PS note whatsoever. Not even a 1-4-3. It sure is a date, but who in suffering hell is it?

Phone rings. I jump from my sit in shock of the sound that has pierced my eardrums. I should've turned down the fucking volume of that receiver. I let it ring three times and,

'Hello?'

'Hiroaki, Sendoh here. Got a favor to ask you,'

'What?'

'Er, have you read my message? That 'Meet me at Don-''

'So it was you. I just opened my account. Sorry for the delay, I haven't much time to read messages. So we're going out then?' I say.

'Er, problem is I've decided to meet someone else, so we're not practically dating. You see, you've come too late to reply to my offer so-'

'I see. So that's what you called for? To cancel it?' I say, not hiding my disappointment.

'Not exactly. I want you to do me a favor.'

'What sort?'

'Er, we're still going to Don Rafael's tonight, only we're meeting someone else there. Don't ask me who, I'm as clueless as you are. Apparently, this guy or girl or whatever that is, is in love with me. I received his/her letter this morning, somebody must've chucked it in my stuff. Anyway, it says I have to go to Don Rafael's tonight 'cos it would mean the world to him/her. I'm not feeling good about this one so I'm asking your company for the night. Ok?' He finishes.

I think. This philanderer is using me for his own cause. How selfish. But heck, who's dying to see him? Men, I do wanna know who. So that leaves me no choice.

'Ah, sure. Fetch me at 6 this afternoon and we're off,' I tell him.

'Thanks. I'm really sorry I have to put off our date. It could've been wonderful to share this evening with you.' He says, lamenting at the forgone moment.

'Never mind. I want to bust this person.' I assured him as we say goodbye.

Mitsui Residence. Hisashi Mitsui. Lunchtime.

I tear open the parcel given to me this morning. The red wrappers lay crumpled on the floor like maple leaves in the early fall, waiting to be blown by the western winds. I take off the note attached to it that reads,

'This is for you. If you're dying to know who I am, I'll be glad to meet you in Don Rafael's at 7:00 this afternoon. May this present bring you happiness as your sight brings me happiness. Take care and see you. 1-4-3.'

How stupid. Who would compose such goofy line for someone he likes? Not a grain of literary value touches his words, not even anything uplifting or inspiring. But who could it be? Koshino? Most probably. The way he looks at me during the practice game isn't something within the realm of ordinariness. I could feel the heat of his eyes blazing before my epidermis like a knife cutting through the ripples of Yangtze river. It's gotta be Koshino who gave this but darn, he's dumb as an anchor under the buoy to write something so cheesy.

I'm done unwrapping his gift. A red Adidas sweat band appears from the small box containing it. Not bad. I've been wanting one for weeks. Sakuragi would slobber like an old cow if he sees me wearing this and man, don't I look good in red? Not that I'd look bad in anything but won't I stand out in crimson attire? Hahaha. Even Rukawa would look like a peanut farmer beside me.

I withdraw from my room and head down for lunch. My mom's serving beef with honey sauce and rice.

'Looking happy, son. I see you haven't ordered a dozen of roses for the girl you're goin' out with tonight.' she says.

I nearly puked the mouthful of rice I was chewing. Whatever gives her the idea. Girls are nauseating as a rabbit's guts stomped in a road kill.

'What's wrong, son?' she says, noticing by difficulty.

'Did you put too much pepper in the dish, mom? I'm allergic to it,' I answer, hoping she would buy it.

'Not too much. Have you been diagnosed? When?' she says in a puzzled voice.

'Since girls started running around the streets with sticks and stones,' I answer. 'I'm eating my food upstairs. Got loads of homework.'

I leave her more startled and confused than before. What next? I'll just wait here 'till the clock hits 6:30; I mustn't be late for the evening, mustn't keep him waiting or he'll be misgiving.

TBC 


	3. Chapter III

Chapter III

Disclaimer: I don't own SD boys, Inoue does. The events that follow are not included in the original plot, but enjoy anyway, anyhow, anytime, anywhere.

6:15 in the afternoon. February 14. Don Rafael's Coffee.

Hisashi Mitsui is the first to arrive. He wears a maroon long sleeves turtleneck and a pair of really hot khaki pants. Very few people are around. No surprises there; the place is notorious for its deplorable ambience, bad service, sloppy food, hot-headed manager, unreasonable price, idiotic employees, filthy floor, and mediocre coffee. So why do the hunks of Kanagawa Basketball League choose to meet here? Easy. No bonehead would spend a Valentine's Day in this hell's dungeon. However that may be, this place provides for the most demanded privacy, and that's just what the Ryonan boys and Mitsui need. A hell of a lot of shame is enough for one to erase Feb. 14 on his calendar.

'He'll probably come 30 minutes late. Guess I'll just take a sip.' Mitsui tells himself and calls a waiter.

'I'll have black coffee. Tall, please and no sugar whatsoever. That's all.' he says to the waiter.

He hums to himself and watches the massive pile of decomposing leaves outside as they're blown away by the cool touches of the soaring breeze. He suddenly imagines what Koshino would look like in a pair of very short shorts. 'How cute that kid is!' he almost screams in excitement at the idea but operating in a mildly conscious condition, his brain suddenly gets hold of logic and cancels the impulse to send the message down his throat thus, sparing Mitsui the humiliation of shouting the phrase aloud.

His coffee is served by the waiter. A steam of warm gas slithers vertically from the brim like a specter reaching for the heavens, a moment away from heavenly salvation. Mitsui realizes that all this bores him terribly.

'Be cool, kid. He'll be here in a few minutes. Don't act like he's Santa off to give you a reindeer ride,' he tries to calm himself down and waits for what is to him an epoch.

35 minutes later, 2 well built boys come in and spot Mitsui Hisashi sitting alone.

Sendoh's mouth falls open. Koshino smiles faintly and whispers to his companion.

'So, we found your stalker. Not really a waste of time, if you'd ask me,' Koshino teases. Mitsui watches them curiously.

'Well, not that he's bad to be a you-know-what or anything, but he's not even in my top 5 list-' Sendoh rambles quickly to be cut short by Koshino.

'Top 5 list? What the fuck's that?'

'Top 5 list. I've sent messages via e-mail to the top 5 cutest guys in the league to be my date today. None of them answered (but you almost did, mind you) so I'm here to meet off with this guy instead of any of those 5,' Sendoh explains, nodding at Mitsui who gives an even more puzzling look. Koshino frowns in amusement.

'That includes me, doesn't it? What's my rank then?' He asks irritably.

'Fifth. Sakuragi's first, followed by Rukawa, then Maki and Fujima and you. If I settled to a top 10 list, Mitsui would probably be in 6th place but that would put me on salary so I just sent 5 messages, expecting at least one of you would say 'yes',' Sendoh answers.

'Don't be a prat, Akira. You'll just have to change the quantity of the carbon copy of your message and have it sent to everyone, to the whole league if you want. Really, you call yourself a senior high student?' Koshino says.

'Easy, why so mad?'

'Not mad. Disgusted rather. I suspect you thought Sakuragi or Rukawa or Maki or Fujima sent you that letter?'

'Nothing like that. At first I thought it was you or anyone from our team. I found it inside my stuff, you know. So it's gotta be someone from Ryonan. Then I found a signature at the bottom of the paper that says 'H.M.' Sendoh answers.

'I see. Well, that makes it clear. Hisashi Mitsui's his name, you know.' Koshino says as the two of them join Mitsui. 'We're squeezing out everything from him.'

Mitsui's heart is now jumping in madness like a kid on a trampoline. The sight of Koshino sends a furious panic down his cardiac system through every vein between each fiber of flesh. Icy droplets of sweat accumulate on the surface of his perfectly formed face and run down to his chin as if attracted by an irresistible force. Why does he have to turn scarlet now? The color of well-nourished blood rises to his cheeks like a spilled bottle of ink on a white smooth paper, staining every square millimeter of its flawlessness.

'Have a seat,' Mitsui tells them in a hesitant tone. He isn't at all pleased about Sendoh coming. 'This spelunker's a spoke in the wheel. Why the fuck does he have to horse around with Koshino like they're ass and tail?' Says a jaundiced voice inside him.

Ryonan boys sit opposite Mitsui.

Nobody speaks for a moment. Somebody has to break the ice or something bad would happen.

'So, I see you've brought a chaperone. Not that it's a great idea but one just couldn't help having second thoughts on meeting with a sender of an anonymous letter, could he?' Mitsui tells Koshino who returns a furtive and startled glance.

'What d'you mean anonymous letter? I didn't get any. Sendoh did this morning.' Koshino answers.

'Hang on,' Sendoh interrupts. His beautiful eyes narrowing in disappointment. 'That letter is from you and you meant to give it to Hiroaki here who didn't receive it? Are you talking about this sappy lovesick crap of a note that's rolled in a silly red ribbon scented with all kinds of berries in the world-'

'Fuck, yes. How the hell...?' Mitsui falters, suddenly grasping his misfortune.

They fall silent as an extraordinarily tall and buffed guy enters the cafe. Ryoji Ikegami wears a lovely white sweat shirt and blue denim. He heads toward the boys' direction and sits with them without a word.

'Why're you here?' Koshino asks him.

'What are you doing here?' Ikegami asks back.

'Ask him, not us,' Sendoh points at Mitsui who gives an I-got-my-head-up-my-ass kinda look.

'I don't give a flying fuck about what you Ryonan boys are playing at. I was expecting only one companion and you all go down here like you just got an invitation to a slumber party at my place. Damn, what's this all about?' Mitsui questions them uncomfortably.

'You started all this with that mushy letter of yours and we got wrapped up with your helter-skelter idea of a date. You should be the one who's explaining,' Sendoh answers.

'Fine.' Mitsui takes a deep breath and, 'I asked that little kid from your team to take that friggin' letter to, er, Koshino here and-'

'You asked who to send what to who?' Ikegami blurts out in surprise.

'Asked that LITTLE KID of yours to send the LETTER to KOSHINO who didn't receive it and accompanies Sendoh here who got the letter. Happy now? And what's your business here anyway?' Mitsui says.

'You.'

'What do you mean 'you'?'

'I asked that little kid to send you that gift this morning with a note that says 'meet me here at this time'. Ikegami says hotly.

'So it was you. This is a crazed hell game.' says Mitsui, fuming.

'Wait a sec. You (points at Ikegami) asked him (at Mitsui) to date you at this time in this place and at the same time, he asked Koshino to date him in the same venue and time and, I got the letter that was supposed to be...oh shit.' Sendoh mixes all those words really badly.

'Yeah. So that just says you're the one who doesn't have anything to settle here. You can go now.' Mitsui tells Sendoh.

'Speak for yourself. I ain't leaving. This is all your goddamn doing, I want you to fix this in my presence,'

'Hey, save your breath for the little kid who delivered that fucking letter. It's his fault you're here.'

'Not quite. Aida probably just mistook my bag for Sendoh's. Anyway, that doesn't make him accountable, if you had those notes signed with your names nobody would blame anybody. Really, that's an incredibly silly thing to do; sending anonymous notes…how stupid,' Koshino says as everybody gives him a glare.

'Having that kind of note signed is as good as narrating a movie's epilogue before you see it; you spoil everything up and miss out all the fun,' Mitsui tells Koshino. 'Sugoi, he's so cute,' his mind says.

'Right. But there's all the risk, you see. I suppose you thought I sent you that gift that's why you agreed to meet here, otherwise you wouldn't go,' Koshino says rather boldly.

'You just hit the nail's head, congratulations.' Mitsui says sarcastically.

Everybody falls in awkward silence.

'So, how do we spend today's holiday, then?' Ikegami breaks in, looking wistfully at Mitsui.

'No idea.' Mitsui says.

'I know! We'll roll out 3 tiny pieces of paper and write each of our name on every sheet--Hiroaki, Ryoji, and me. You pick one out and whoever's in it will spend Valentine's Day with you, okay?' Sendoh proposes to Mitsui excitedly.

'You too?' Mitsui's eyes narrow.

'I wouldn't come off empty-handed. I walked a goddamn kilometer to get here and you're not telling me to move out just like that on February 14. Now, if you'll have to date me, you should know a lot better than to refuse,' Sendoh says, his voice failing to tone down its volume. Ikegami and Koshino do not object which leaves Mitsui in ineluctable imbroglio.

Mitsui exhales helplessly. Why do I have to get caught in this sticky net of hilarity and shame? He asks himself desperately. 'Talk about fucked up.'

'Fine, go do whatever pleases you but don't go cheating on me,'

'Sure,' Sendoh flashes a very handsome smile as he starts to work on his plan.

TBC 


	4. Final Chapter

Final Chapter

Author's Note: This is the last and longest chapter of this stupid story. I rushed to have this finished as soon as possible because it's sickening and tiresome. This was supposed to be a one shot fic but I couldn't put in 1 chapter everything there is in the plot. You see, I couldn't make out if I have to write in a first person view mode or in third person so I decided to just do both since it's the most convenient way to have it. You might not like the ending but heck, you can say that it sucks right in the ear, alright. And man, I'd like that. : )

Disclaimer: I don't own SD boys, Inoue does. The events that follow are not included in the original plot but enjoy anyway, anyhow, anywhere, anytime.

7:20 in the afternoon. Don Rafael's Coffee

The three rolls of paper are placed on an empty ashtray on the middle of the round table. Mitsui can feel the heavy thuds of his heart amid the drowsy feeling of nervousness rising inside him. The long awaited joy of his life is now dependent on trifles; on papers containing names known to him. One movement of his fingers can mean apocalypse or salvation. 'This is as foolish as trying to forget the whole Katakana alphabet.' He mumbles desperately to himself.

He speculates on the three people before him. Ryoji Ikegami; tall, defense master, sensible, mature, cute enough, and crazy over him. Akira Sendoh; Senior High basketball jock, tall, sick in the head, extremely talented, childish, whimsical, garrulous, cheerful, and unbelievably good looking. Hiroaki Koshino; looks very much like me in my junior high days. He thinks. Sigh.

'Come on. We can't wait forever.' Ikegami's voice shakes Mitsui out of his reverie.

He moves his right arm toward the ashtray. Every eye is upon him now; not a single trembling movement of his reluctant hand is omitted by those watchful glances. 'Do they honestly want to go out with me? What if this is just a bummer?' His nerves are racking violently, striving to slit open the outer walls of his covering.

'I can't,' Mitsui suddenly pauses, completely stoned by the absurdity of Akira Sendoh's idea. 'Why can't I just choose among you three?'

'That would be absolutely unfair and unscrupulous,' Koshino answers sternly. 'If we do that, the odds will be in your favor. You see, the chances of each of us getting what he wants must be, well, 25 percent. All of us must take the risk and the unlucky ones would have to cut the corner. In that way no one will complain because we do it randomly.'

'Man, is this the way Ryonan people think? Justice, equality, and parity? What kind of humanity talk do their teachers deliver during lessons? What a bore.' Mitsui says to himself. No matter how hard he tries to understand the principle, a notion of shrewdness prevails over him as a cab driver would handle a rusty car's steering wheel.

'Fine. I'll do it if that makes you happy,'

He picks up the roll nearest to his forefinger and lifts it up for everyone to see. A sickening enthusiasm plays on the young faces of Ryonan boys as their lips crease into a somewhatmenacing grin. Mitsui opens the paper carefully and reads the first letter of the name on it: A.

Sendoh gathers the two remaining rolls of paper from the ashtray and stuffs them inside his pocket. Mitsui is stunned stiff by his own carelessness of picking among the draws.

'Can you believe my luck? Of all people...hmmmph...not in my craziest delusion...' Mitsui's words trail off as he spreads out the paper that reads 'Akira'. Everybody reads it too.

'Congratulations, Akira.' Koshino's voice pops out like a gunfire from a forlorn, gloomy habitat, breaking the lonesome silence that hang over them. Ryoji Ikegami isn't able to conceal his frustration and stays silent.

'Wow. It sure is a great idea after all. So Mitsui, where d'you suppose we're going after this?' Sendoh addresses him excitedly.

'Come on, you don't even like me for Christ's sake! Can't we just put it off and go home? I've got enough loose screws on my skull to go around arm in arm with you for a single minute,' Mitsui complains to him loud enough for everyone to hear. He is feeling cheated outright.

At this point, Mitsui wishes so much to have just stayed home and helped his mom in whatever chores available that day. He feels that Sendoh's frolicsome ideas and habits are inescapably contagious and far-fetched that's why nobody should get near him or something bad would happen. 'He's as dangerous as a tethered rabid wolf in a bunny costume. He clowns around like everything's fine and pretty and worries about nothing...who would hang around with him in the same couch?' He says to himself, hyperbolyzing the other boy's oddities.

'Whoa, what's the flout all about, Mr. Senior? I'm not goin' to bite you, I'm just here to have a good time and so are you,' Sendoh tells him and drags him out of the coffee shop before he can protest. Ikegami and Koshino stay behind and watch both Mitsui and Sendoh engage in a catfight-looking argument.

Later...

Mitsui can't break free from Sendoh's clutches; his stamina is drained to the very last drop to restrain the other's impulsive rigor. Sendoh decides they dine in an Italian restaurant down R------- street.

8:00 in the afternoon,

'My treat. I have a feeling you're not too pleased with all this,' Sendoh offers him as they sit quietly inside the restaurant.

'I can't understand why you have to do this. I mean, I thought you've got the hots for our freshman boys and now you're here to watch me sulk over my misfortunes instead of asking them out. Why do this?' Mitsui says as if trying to solve a conundrum written on the other's face.

Sendoh just gives him a strange smile and calls for the waiter. They give him their orders and talk a little bit more.

'We could've just had a one on one game or better yet, watch a game. But this? I don't know...' Mitsui rambles as Sendoh continues to watch him with the same meaningful smile on his face.

'I never had a good look at you until this afternoon. I used to think Sakuragi and Rukawa look a lot cuter but now,' Sendoh grins pathetically and goes on 'well, I learned that I'm mistaken...I should've asked you first on a night out,'

'Excuse me?' Mitsui asks in amazement, lines on his face begin to appear as if drawn by an invisible pencil. He didn't miss a word but Sendoh's confession shakes him out of his wits which makes him lose control of his speech and action.

'There. You wear that smug on your face again. It wouldn't help, you see, I can damn well tell you everything I want here and now and none of your vehement reactions can stop me. If I say you're cute and hot and gorgeous, then you really are, I mean it. What will I get lying to you anyway? Will it make you want me or hate me? No. But this I want to tell you, Hisashi; that you look even better when you're irritated. hahaha. Now I've said it. Silly me. Well, that leaves me no choice but to annoy you even more, it makes me like you even more. hahaha.' Sendoh tells him very quickly.

'You're a complete nutter. Really. Do you usually behave like this in front of people? Rukawa and Sakuragi wouldn't stand this harlequin; they might even pull a nice kick on you if you say crazy stuff like that,' says Mitsui, still shocked by the hilarious straightforwardness revealed to him.

'But you're not them, are you? You're a lot better than that that's why I know I made the right choice in you. You're not kicking me out and we're both gonna have a good time tonight,' Sendoh says in an avid, frightening tone..

'Just quit playing the jester and I might change my mind running away in a minute,'

'Okey-dokey. I might like it too if I see you smile a little.'

Their meals are served as both of them fill their empty stomachs. They are quiet for a while but Mitsui suddenly remembers something.

'Koshino doesn't happen to go out with you, does he?' He asks Sendoh hoping there's nothing between them.

'Well, er, um...' Sendoh stammers and thinks for a minute, 'Well, we don't go out as you-know-what but we, er, we're like very close friends and I do like him and I think he likes me too. It's a very hard question you're asking me, even subliminal. There's no formality between us but we don't take it seriously otherwise I wouldn't be here with you.'

'I see. You must be really lucky then.'

'I don't know,' Sendoh pauses and looks at Mitsui, 'Why can't we just put Hiroaki aside for today and have a share of our good time?'

'Sure. Whatever you say.' Mitsui answers blankly. He doesn't know if he's taken a liking to Sendoh after saying the words. 'This is insane. I can't just fall for him in the spur of a moment. I mean, I never even dared look at him during games...surely, he's nice and cute and everything but that doesn't make him anything desirable or likable, he's probably not even eligible. But what about Koshino? Do I really like him or is it just because he looks like me? How come I've forgotten about him in a few minutes?' Such thoughts trouble Mitsui to the limits of his patience, It strains him to do something necessary. But no matter what pretext is there available, he can't make ends meet or think straight, not in front of someone like Akira Sendoh.

They talk for several hours more and have a few good laughs. The subjects of their chatter range from hoops and moves to boys and sneakers, the usual petty stuff queer teenage basketballers immerse themselves into.

'It's getting late. I told my mom I'll be home by 12:30. I'm really sorry. Do you want me to walk you home?' Mitsui asks Sendoh.

'Okay,'

They walk for a long time not uttering a word. Something inside them begs time to be still, to be frozen by their own will and power. They pass through several streets whose names they don't know or even bother to know. The wind sways against their faces, sending their hair to produce a long flux of unseen force following its undirected path. Lifeless leaves are scattered on the road like light weight corpses waiting to be collected and cremated, as the branches they have fallen from dance softly and quietly to an unheard evening melody. It sure is a windy night.

After a while,

'That wasn't so bad. Was it?' Sendoh suddenly asks Mitsui.

'It was nice, to say the least. I've had a wonderful time, and you?'

'You bet. And, oh, we're here.' Sendoh says as they reach his house.

'Oh. Well...'

An awkward feeling crowds around them as both restrain themselves from what they're dying to say to each other. Sendoh feels the need to start an exchange of words and says,

'Well, bye then.'

'Oh, okay. And...Are you free next Friday?' Mitsui says in an unrelenting, low whisper.

A smile breaks on Sendoh's sleepy face. His eyes suddenly flash a rare sparkle, brilliant enough to cast away the shadows around his sockets. Anyone could've said his wish has just been granted.

'Sure. I'll give you a ring soon.' Sendoh answers in inexplicable delight and watches Mitsui disappear in the dark.

Sendoh smiles to himself again and holds out the other two rolls of paper he slipped inside his pocket earlier after Mitsui picked his share. These are those that have the names of Koshino and Ikegami on them, supposedly. He crumples them slowly and dumps them on the nearby trash bin. Both read his name: 'Akira.'

END 


End file.
